


The Nerd, The Brave One, The Evil Triplet and The Uncle

by buttsbeyondbutts



Series: Ducktales Prequels [4]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Character Study, Duck angst, Family Fluff, Gen, Harassment, Hospital, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, One Shot Collection, Original Character(s), Out of Character, Parenthood, Pre-Canon, Protectiveness, School, Sibling Love, Threats of Violence, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-18 16:44:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14856452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttsbeyondbutts/pseuds/buttsbeyondbutts
Summary: AKA: Don't Fuck With The DucksHuey, Dewey, Louie and Donald will always protect their family, in very different ways.





	1. The Nerd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Huey wouldn't stand up for himself but that's why he had brothers.

**The Nerd**

Huey liked school. He was good at it. The answers could easily be found in the right book, but there was always more to learn. He sat in the front of the class, eager to soak up as much knowledge as he could.

He never thought he’d regret it. He slid down in his chair, his face as red as his shirt, but there was no way to escape his teacher’s ire. “Skipping ahead in the reading might impress Mrs. Quackenbush, but I don’t appreciate smug little know it alls in my class!” Ms. Cassowary had taken over their third-grade class nearly a week ago, after Mrs. Quackenbush went on her hen leave. She was the first teacher- no, the first person- to ever hate Huey Duck.

“But I already finished-”

“Don’t interrupt me!” Cassowary screeched. “You are the most disrespectful child I ever had the misfortune to meet! You are going to stay after school for one half hour and write “I must follow directions” 300 times!”

Huey felt tears sting his eyes. He gripped his hat under his desk, wishing he could sink into the floor.

“That’s not fair!” Dewey’s voice rang from the back of the room. “All he did was read a book! You can’t punish Huey for learning faster than you can teach!”

Huey turned to shake his head at his brother. You can’t yell at a teacher! Even a substitute! But it was too late.

“Apparently insubordination runs in the family. You can join your brother after school as well, Dewford!” Cassowary said nastily. “One more word and I’ll keep you both after school until the end of the week!”

Dewey scowled but fell quiet. In front of him, Louie glared at Ms. Cassowary but stayed silent. Huey turned back to the front, trying not to cry.

“Well, unless there are any other interruptions, we can return to our lesson.” Cassowary said with a cruel smile, “Unless Hubert thinks he can teach this class better. Perhaps I’d better take your book away, so you aren’t tempted.”

She snatched the paperback from his hands and shoved it in her bag. Huey said nothing, but a big wet tear plopped on his desk.

**The Brave One**

“I can’t believe this!” Dewey snarled under his breath.

“Shh,” Huey glanced back at Cassowary, flipping idly through a gossip magazine.

“Forget her!” Dewey hissed. “She’s a total witch!”

“She’s a teacher.” Huey whispered. “Write your lines.”

Dewey had lost count of his lines, but he didn’t care. “What kind of teacher punishes a kid for learning too fast?! How are you not furious?”

“She’s a teacher,” Huey repeated, carefully writing out his undeserved punishment.

Dewey scowled. Huey’s respect for authority was easily his most annoying quality. He always had to listen to every adult in sight, no matter how rude and stupid they were. Well, maybe Huey wouldn’t stand up for himself, but that’s why he had brothers.

Dewey ignored Huey’s panicked hiss as he slid down off his stool. What kind of sadistic monster made little kids write lines on blackboards they could barely even reach? He snuck over to Cassowary’s desk. Her brown satchel sat on the floor, Huey’s book still inside. _Nasty old witch,_ Dewey thought, _can’t stand anyone smarter than her._

He slid the book out without a sound and took a couple of loose dollars as well. Sure, stealing was wrong but so was making a little kid cry. If that kid happened to be Dewey Duck’s big brother, he was getting payback. Whether he wanted it or not.

Huey didn’t say anything when Dewey joined him at the blackboard again, but he looked relieved. With the book and money tucked safely in their backpacks, and Cassowary still munching on crackers as she read her magazine, Dewey picked up the chalk with satisfaction. He’d get Huey some bubblegum on the way home, call it “emotional damages”.

“Alright, times up,” Cassowary said after a few more minutes. She stood up and surveyed their work. “You’re 50 lines short, Hubert. I’ll see you and your brother in here after school tomorrow.”

Dewey wanted to tell her where she could shove her 50 lines, but Huey elbowed him in the wing and said, “Yes, Ms. Cassowary.”

“Now get out of my sight.” She ordered. The two boys grabbed their backpacks and ran from the room.

**The Evil Triplet**

Louie hoped his brothers wouldn’t be mad at him for not speaking up in class. Dewey might but Huey would’ve just found it more embarrassing. Besides, landing himself in detention wouldn’t solve anything. Cassowary would just rag on Huey again tomorrow. She was already driving him out of his cap with her constant criticism. Louie could fix it.

Really, it wasn’t even about Huey. This was a matter of rank. Huey was the good kid, Louie was the evil triplet, they all agreed! If they got locked out of the houseboat, Huey checked for Donald's spare key while Louie jimmied open a window. Louie was the one who could break into a principal's office, hack into his email (although guessing Password1 hardly qualified. This guy was in education?!) and fire someone on his behalf. Huey actually stayed for detention! Who throws away years of reputation because some crazy bird hated smart kids!?

Not Louie Duck. He wrote three versions of the firing email, each with progressively fewer curse words. Some disturbing information had been discovered in Cassowary's background check, he decided, and she was no longer welcome at Duckburg Elementary. From the look of his inbox, the principal didn't check his email often (seriously, they needed to transfer yesterday.) Just to be safe, Louie changed the password. He'd check it for the next month or so, in case Cassowary responded. He hoped she would.

Closing down the computer, Louie glanced at the clock. 15 minutes until his brothers were out of detention. Plenty of time to slash a few tires. 

Not for the first time, Louie wanted to sign his work. _Don't make my brother cry._ But he'd have to keep that urge in check. No sense in adding legitimate criminal charges to a bogus detention. Uncle Donald would be furious enough. 

Besides, he was out of time. Huey and Dewey came out of the front doors. Huey's eyes were still red, but he smiled weakly with Dewey's arm slung over his shoulders.

"How was it?" Louie asked.

"Garbage," Dewey said just as Huey mumbled "Fine."

"Well, I hope you learned your lesson," Louie said in his best sage voice. "What were you thinking, learning in school?! Next thing you'll be cleaning your room and going to college! It's dark path you're on, Hubert."

Huey snorted but his smile faded as Donald pulled up to the curb.

**The Uncle**

“Uncle Donald, please don’t yell at my Principal again!” Huey begged the next morning.

“No deal!” Donald said, marching through the halls despite Huey’s attempts to pull him back. “I wanna know what kind of school he thinks he’s running! Keeping my boys late for learning too much!”

“I gotta side with Uncle Donald here,” Dewey said. “After we’re done with Mr. Greathorn, I wanna see him take down Cassowary!”

“You will,” Donald promised. It had been a long time since he could really let his temper fly. If he wasn’t so angry, he might’ve even been grateful for an acceptable target.

“You might not get the chance,” Louie said evenly. He walked behind them with his hands in his pocket, completely unruffled by his uncle’s war path. Donald decided he didn’t want to know. He was proud of Dewey for standing up to his teacher in the moment but knew Louie had much more subtle ways of defending his brother.

The offending principal jumped when Donald called his name. “Ah! Mr. Duck!” He scrambled to pick up his papers. “I uh- received your many angry voicemails and let me assure you, I had no idea-”

“No idea?!” Donald shouted. “You’ll just let anyone come in here and berate my boys?!”

“No, of course not!” The owl flustered. “I meant, of course Ms. Cassowary was completely out of line to reprimand Huey-”

“I’ll put her out of line!” Donald said, rolling up his sleeves. “Where is that bird?!”

“Well, of course Ms. Cassowary has been let go!”

“Really?” Dewey exclaimed as Louie’s grin grew wide and smug. Even Huey stopped staring at the floor in shame to crack a hopeful smile.

“Of course. I’m afraid she was extremely rude when I called her about it. She left me no choice.” Mr. Greathorn looked pleased to deliver happy news. “Her behavior was absolutely reprehensible. I’m so sorry it was allowed to occur, Huey. You’re a very bright young duck, and you shouldn’t be punished for that.”

“Thanks, Mr. Greathorn,” Huey said, sounding like his normal self.

“Well,” Donald felt his temper subside. “That’s more like it! I hope you found someone more suitable!”

“As a matter of fact, I did. Here he comes now.” He gestured down the hall to a young parrot hurrying down the hall. “Mr. Duck, this is Mr. Kakapo. Mr. Kakapo, this is Mr. Duck and his nephews: Huey, Dewey and Louie. They’ll be in your class.”

“Right!” He said in a distinct accent. “G’day, gents, happy to make your acquaintance! I hope you’re ready to get some learning done, eh?”

“Sure!” Huey said.

“Are you from New Zealand?!” Dewey shouted excitedly.

“Meh,” Louie shrugged.

“Good ear on ya, Dewey!” Mr. Kakapo said appreciatively. “Real smart boys you got here, Mr. Duck. I bet yer right proud.”

“I sure am!” Donald agreed. Huey grinned back at him.

“Can I show Mr. Kakapo the classroom, Uncle Donald?”

“Sure thing,” Donald said, patting his nephew’s ball cap.

“Right kind of ya, Huey,” Kakapo said. “Do you need me for anything, Mr. Greathorn?”

The owl principal shook his head.

“Right then, lead the way, mates!” Kakapo said and followed the excited boys down the hall.

Mr. Greathorn gave a heavy sigh of relief as they disappeared from sight, but just because Donald was done yelling didn’t mean he was done. He turned and pointed a solitary feather at the principal’s beak. “If anything like this happens again,” he warned in a low voice, “I’ll come back here with the entire PTA behind me. I’ll hold you personally responsible. Understand?”

Greathorn swallowed and tugged at his tie. “Y-yes, Mr. Duck. I understand perfectly.”

“Good!” Donald said and followed after his boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My poor sweet boy! Huey's plight is an exaggeration of some of my own public school experiences. I didn't have his family. 
> 
> (I also spent way to much time on bird names)
> 
> Next chapter is Dewey's! Please comment!


	2. The Brave One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I know, I know. Junior Woodchuck rule ninety whatever; Violence is never the answer."
> 
> "They put Dewey in the hospital."

**The Brave One**  


“C’mon, C’mon, you beautiful boy,” Dewey hissed. He was moments away from the new high score in Uke or Puke. He could practically taste it. “Yes… Yesss-”

“Move it, twerp!” The shove lifted the young duck off his feet and half way across the room. Dizzy, Dewey blinked on the floor. A big dog, at least twelve years old and fifty pounds on him, had his uke and his high score!

“Hey!” Dewey sprang to his feet. “That’s mine!”

“How d’ya play dis thing anyway?” The dog said, awkwardly strumming the wrong notes. The game made a loud buzzer and a red frowny face flashed over the screen. 

“You’re ruining my score!” Dewey cried, trying to grab the controller away. The dog just shoved him back to the floor. His two friends chuckled dimly. Dewey’s fists trembled. “Give it back!”

The dog ignored him, played a few more wrong notes and completely lost Dewey’s score. “Dumb game,” he said with a snort. “Hey, check dis out!”

Dewey watched in horror as he entered the initials A-S-S, right over Dewey’s score. “Noo!”

“Hey, Bowers!” One of the other dogs elbowed his companion and jerked his head at Dewey. “I tink I found a better game.”

“Yeah,” said Bowers, dropping Dewey’s uke, “Let’s see what kinda sounds we can get outta him.”

“Bring it on, Jerks!” Dewey said, putting up his dukes. He didn’t think about how there were three of them, or how they were all big kids, or how Huey and Louie were nowhere to be seen and Uncle Donald was busy at his job interview. Or rather, he didn’t care. He was Dewey Duck, bravest of all! 

As the first punch connected to his beak, Dewey wondered if he might, in fact, be the stupidest of all.

** The Nerd **

Huey didn’t believe in Synchronization- the idea that twins and triplets could feel one another’s pain. With his brothers, he was pretty sure he would have felt some by now. Donald had always looked to Huey for help reigning in the others. Years of babysitting, and tutoring had likely given him an extra awareness for trouble with his brothers. 

That was why he put down his own game and went in search of Dewey, not some stupid mind link. 

Fortunately, he didn’t have to look far. Dewey had spent the entire bus ride talking about Uke or Puke. He was going to beat the high score today or die trying.

It looked like he was going to die trying. Huey’s blood boiled at the scene: his brother dangling two feet above the floor, his beak crooked and eye already starting to swell. That was all Huey had to see before he slammed into the thug holding Dewey. The other two rushed him but Huey jumped back, letting them crash into each other. 

“You okay?” He said, turning back to his brother. Dewey was on his knees now, coughing violently. 

“Yeah,” he rasped, cracking a small smile. “I- look out!”

Huey ducked too slow. The biggest dog grabbed his arm and tossed him into a nearby game. Stunned, Huey saw Dewey leap onto his assailant’s back only to be hurled beside his brother. The noise attracted a crowd, but no one moved to help them. Huey thought he saw a flash of green disappear as the bully lifted him up for another blow.

** The Uncle **

_Uncle Donald! Come quick!_ He could still hear Louie’s panicked voice, cutting his job interview short. Thank god he’d been in the same building when the boys got hurt. If the boys had been alone, if Louie had tried to intervene instead of coming to get him, if the Beagles hadn’t run off when the Funzo security intervened- Donald didn’t want to think about it. 

Unfortunately, all he could do was think about it. He had no one to punch, no one to scream at, no hospital to rush to. Just two boys to hold onto while the other one slept. Huey was okay, just a few bruises. No worse than his brothers gave him rough housing, but Dewey, sweet, brave Dewey, hadn’t woken up since he fell asleep in the car. 

“I’m sorry, Unca Donald,” Huey mumbled into his shirt, terror forcing him into the old mispronunciation. “I shoulda been watching him.”

“Shh, it’s not your fault,” Donald said, stroking the boy’s feathers.  _I should’ve been watching him… watching all of you… watching her._

“You really don’t know who those guys were?” Louie asked again. No tears from Louie but he stared intently at Dewey’s sleeping form and shook with barely contained worry. 

Huey shook his head mournfully. Donald knew. He could still recognize a Beagle boy from three leagues away. These ones were young, though. They didn’t know who Dewey was, or they would have called Ma. The malicious matriarch had likely sent them to the arcade to practice bullying and amateur pick pocketing. He’d forgotten how much he hated that crazy crime cult. 

“It’s okay,” Donald said. “The doctor said he’ll probably wake up soon. I’m proud of you boys. You both did just the right thing.” He pulled his boys closer and hugged them tight.

After what felt like hours, Dewey started to blink. His brothers had fallen asleep, but Donald slipped out from under them to take his hand. “How’re you feeling, Dewey?”

“I’m okay,” Dewey said in a thick voice. He winced as he tried to sit up. 

“Just rest,” Donald said. “Everything’s okay.”

Dewey glanced around the hospital room, taking in the machines and his sleeping brothers. “Sorry, Uncle Donald.”

“For what?”

“You hate it when we fight.” He looked at the bandages on his wrist. “We can’t afford-”

“Shh,” Donald said, because he couldn’t stand to hear any more. “I know you didn’t start that fight. Those kids-”  _Control your temper_ . He told himself.  _Dewey needs you._ “We’ll figure the money out. Don’t worry about it. Just get better.” 

Dewey nodded slightly. “Okay, Uncle Donald.”

“Do you want something to eat? The nurse left you some jello?”

Dewey nodded again, some of the haze lifting from his eyes. Donald opened the plastic container and handed it to Dewey’s good arm. “I love you, Dewey.”

“Love you too,” Dewey said with a weak smile.

** The Evil Triplet **

Dewey spent the night in the hospital and a month in his cast. Huey stuck to him like glue, convinced another attack was coming. Uncle Donald stayed up late, staring at hospital bills. Dewey insisted he was fine, but he flinched at loud noises and refused to return to Funzo’s Fun Zone.

And Louie? Louie stewed. 

He had been in the food court, charming some free pizza from Jane, when he heard someone yell fight. He’d arrived to see his brothers slammed into the arcade games, and his blood ran cold. He’d raced to the manager’s office, shouting for his uncle. 

Intellectually, he knew it was the right call. Much as he might wish he defended his brothers in the moment, his physical contribution would have been minimum. No, it had been drilled into him since infancy: if there’s trouble, get Uncle Donald.

He got Uncle Donald and the bullies booked it. Huey and Dewey were mostly recovered, except for a few emotional scars, and Louie was fine. Why shouldn’t he be fine? He wasn’t hurt. His family would be fine. Everything would be fine. 

Except, he’d seen the same three dogs lurking around the fun zone, the playground, and the soda shop. Not that he was tracking them or anything. He certainly hadn’t realized that the Beagles would eventually target his brother again, if not for revenge then out of sheer sociopathy. 

It’s what he would have done. Or maybe it was what he was doing. He’d quibble about the psychology once he got back to the houseboat. 

Louie was half way down the pier before Huey caught up with him. “What are you doing?”

“Um…”  _crapcrapcrap_ , “Midnight stroll?”

“You’re going after those guys who beat up Dewey, aren’t you?”

“See, you seem smart, but you always ask questions when you already know the answer.” Louie sighed. “I know, I know, Junior Woodchuck Rule number ninety whatever, violence is never the answer blah, blah-“

“I wanna help.” Huey interrupted. 

Louie blinked. “Unexpected. You sure you’re up for it.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m not talking about physically,” Louie said, though his eyes wandered to Huey’s old injuries. “I’m not going to reason with them.”

“I know,” Huey said. “I’ve seen those guys around before. They’re not gonna let up. We need to actually stop him.”

Louie smiled. “I’ve never felt closer to you, Hubert.”

Huey rolled his eyes but followed Louie into the dark. They found the big one- Bowers, according to Dewey- easily enough. Louie had heard him brag about shoplifting from the soda shop ever Thursday. They watched from the alley as he left, chuckling at his ill gotten gains. 

“Do you have a plan?” Huey whispered. 

“Mostly.” Louie glanced around the alley. “You got that stupid rodeo badge last summer, didn’t you?”

"Tio Panchito helped." Huey said proudly.“They let me use Uncle Donald instead of a bull.” 

“Good,” Louie said. He handed his brother a length of rope. “Think you can get it around Bowers before he pummels me to death?”

“What-“ but Louie was already striding out of the alley. 

“Hey, Nimrod!” He picked up a can from the gutter and tossed it at Bowers. 

“Hey!” The Beagle growled and turned to face him. “You got a lotta nerve!”

“You hurt my brothers,” Louie said in a low voice. 

“Yeah?” He stepped forward, towering over Louie. “You jealous?”

_Any time, Huey._ “You should really apologize.”

Bowers laughed. “Oh yeah, I’m real sorry, duck dork! I’m sorry for this too!”

Just as he raised his fist, Huey came through. The lasso landed perfectly around Bowers’ neck. Huey ran backwards, around a nearby telephone pole, jerking Bowers back with a howl.

_ Nice, _  Louie sauntered forward. A glass bottle glimmered in the lamp light. He picked it up and broke it, ignoring Huey's frown. "Now, you don't know me very well but I think I figured out a few things about you. You're big, sure, but you're not tough. Otherwise you wouldn't need two other guys to take on a nine year old. Am I right?"

Bower' response was a choke as Huey pulled on the rope. "Sounds like a yes." Louie grinned at his brother, "Since we're getting to know each other, let me tell you about me. My brothers? You know the kids you tried to kill over a video game? They're a lot nicer than me."

Bowers gurgled. "I know, right? Even the guy with the rope! He's here to keep me in check!" He chuckled, turning his broken bottle over in the moonlight. "So, if I hear you've gone after my brothers, or anyone in this town again... if I dream about you causing trouble, I'm coming back. And I'm coming back alone."

"Louie," Huey warned. 

Louie blinked. He hadn't realized how close the broken bottle was to Bowers' face. He tossed it over his shoulder.  "Good talk, man!" he clapped Bowers on the shoulder. "We'll let you think it over. Tell your friends all about it. C'mon, bro."

Huey tied the rope off and followed after Louie. They walked for a block before he cleared his throat. 

"I know, I know," Louie said. "I took it too far. Sorry to drag you into it."

Huey shook his head. "They put Dewey in the hospital," he said in a dark voice. "Every action has an equal and opposite reaction."

"Is that from the guidebook?"

Huey shook his head. "First law of physics. Where'd you get your dialogue?"

"Remember that movie Dewey made us watch, where the gorgeous assistant settled for the obvious alcoholic."

"You know, some people think that movie's about superheroes." Huey smiled. 

"Well, I switched up the nouns anyway." Louie said. "I wasn't really gonna hurt him, you know."

"I know," Huey nodded. "I'm just glad you're on our side."

Louie put his arm around his brother's shoulder. "Always."

Dewey waited for them on the bow, scowling. "You're lucky Uncle Donald had the night shift." He said. "Do I wanna know where you guys went?"

"Just intimidating your enemies," Louie answered. He hopped up on deck while Huey went around to the gang plank. "How's your arm?"

"Itchy," Dewey said. "Huey, where were you? Really?"

Huey shrugged. "You heard him. Nobody messes with our family."

Dewey frowned but didn't ask again. The next time Bowers Beagle saw them, he turned tail and ran.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The angst... it's so pure... so decadent!  
> Every time I write a kids fic, I wonder why I get so violent. Then I remember the kind of books I read as a kid. 
> 
> 100 internet points to anyone who gets the Steven King Reference
> 
> Please Comment! Louie's next!


	3. The Evil Triplet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't have a 'tortured soul'; I'm nine!"

**The Evil Triplet**

“Where is it where is it where is it?” Louie dug frantically through his backpack. “Come on, phone, I know I had you! Ugh, Uncle Donald’s gonna kill me!”

“Hi, Louie!” A sweet simpering voice made his feathers curl. He didn’t speak, or look up, just kept digging through his desk. “Whacha lookin’ for?”

He sighed deeply. Maybe she’d serve a purpose today. “My phone’s gone. I thought I had it in my-” Realization took him the moment he met her eyes. “You took it again, didn’t you?”

Betsy DuClaire grinned back at him, spinning his phone between her fingers. “Maaaybee.”

Louie sighed again. He should have known. It was her the last three times, why wouldn’t it be her again? “Give it back.”

“What’ll you give me if I do?” She asked, smile widening.

“Nothing.” Louie glared. “It’s my phone. Give it back.”

Betsy giggled, dancing out of his reach. “C’mon, Louie! You know what I want!”

He did. Betsy had all the subtly of an avalanche. For weeks, he’d endured her goo-goo eyes, humiliating love notes about how she was the only one who understood him, and the random theft of his stuff. Never mind that Louie hadn’t even known who she was before she became the most annoying person to ever exist, in Betsy’s delusional mind, they were in the midst of a torrid romance. If your definition of romance was trying to extort physical affection.

“I’m not kissing you.” He felt stupid just saying it out loud. “I don’t like you. Stop taking my stuff.”

She giggled again, like nails on a chalk board. “Please, Louie. You don’t fool me! I’m the only one who understands the dark tortured soul hiding under that hoodie!”

“What?!” Louie squawked. “I don’t have a ‘tortured soul’; I’m nine!”

Betsy shook her head. “Stop fighting it, Lou-Lou! I’m just like you! Together, we can show the world the true power of evil!”

“Are you quoting a movie right now?” Sheer incredulity dulled his reflexes. Suddenly she was right there, crowding him up against his desk. Louie tried to scramble over the top, but her arms trapped him. Betsy moved in for the kill, lips inching closer and closer.

“Louie? You in here? Huey says we’re gonna be late.” Dewey rounded the corner of the door. “Just get- oh!”

Betsy had the decency to blush and freeze. Louie snatched the phone from her hand, grabbed his open backpack and fled. He pulled his hood up over his head and pulled the strings tight. He could still hear Dewey running after him, unable or unwilling to stifle his laughter.

“Not. One. Word.” He muttered darkly.

**The Nerd**

“C’mon, it’s funny!” Dewey insisted with a grin. “Louie’s got a girlfriend!”

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut all the way up!” Louie groaned from the bottom bunk.

“What? She’s cute!”

“It doesn’t matter if she’s cute!” He had refused to take his hood off since he left the school, but he did roll over to point and glare at his brother. “I don’t like her! She’s deluded! She stole my phone! You know she grabbed my book report, so she could preform a love spell with my handwriting?”

“Okay, that is a little creepy,” Dewey grimaced.

“A little?!”

“Louie’s right,” Huey said from behind the Junior Woodchuck Guide. “This is classic harassment, regardless of cuteness.”

“Thank you!” Louie said. He tilted his head to the side. “Is there really a chapter on that?”

“In the supplemental pages that came out last year,” Huey nodded. “According to the JWG, you should tell a teacher or an adult you trust immediately.”

“You think I haven’t?” Louie folded his arms bitterly. “Mrs. Quackenbush thinks it’s cute. Greathorn just confiscates my phone.”

“Well, it is against the rules to have phones out in school,” Huey said.

“She takes it out of my backpack!” Louie’s voice rose, almost hysterical.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Huey came and sat next to his little brother. “Do you want me to tell Uncle Donald?”

Louie sighed and leaned up against him. Huey wrapped his arm around his shoulder as Dewey watched sympathetically from the middle bunk. “He’s already stressed about the new job. It’s not like she’s really hurting anything.”

“She’s creeping you out and stealing your stuff.” Huey said, not bothering to hide the anger in his voice. Louie liked to pretend he was always in control, but this stuff bothered him more than he’d admit. “It’s not okay. I can hold your phone tomorrow, if you want.”

“She’ll just take something else,” Louie said, dejectedly.

“Oh!” Huey jumped off the bunk and dug around in his own backpack. He pulled out a slightly tarnished combination lock and tossed it to Louie. “Would that help?”

“Why do you have this?”

“Junior Woodchuck Lock Picking Badge,” Huey said proudly.

“To go with your Junior Woodchuck Moral Relativism badge?” Louie cracked his first smile since they left the classroom. He turned the lock over in his hand. “Yeah, maybe. At least if she rips open my backpack, she might get in trouble. Thanks, Huey.”

**The Brave One**

Okay, so this Betsy DuClaire was officially unfunny now. His brother’s embarrassment had lost its shine the night before when his voice started to crack. Now Dewey watched her hover over Louie’s desk while he tried desperately to ignore her, and his pity turned to anger.

Still, he didn’t want to humiliate Louie any more than he already was. Maybe all they needed was a third party to tell her off.”

“Hey-“ he caught her at the end of the lunch line, “Betsy, right?”

“Yeah?” She blinked at him, clearly not remembering his name.

“Dewey.” Dewey sighed. “Louie’s brother? Listen, you’re kinda freaking him out with all the notes, and the texts, and stealing his stuff.”

Betsy sniffed haughtily. “I don’t expect you to understand! Me and Louie are soulmates!”

“Okay…” Louie was right. This girl was deluded. “… except you’re not? Louie doesn’t like you. He never did!”

Betsy took a step back. For a brief, beautiful moment, Dewey thought he’d gotten through to her. He felt bad. He patted her shoulder, ignoring the awkwardness. “Sorry, I had to say it like that. You just have to move on, okay? Louie’s not even that great and I’m sure somebody out there likes girls who go through their stuff and-”

“I see what this is,” _Nope, she’s not moving on._ Betsy’s eyes flashed. “You’re in love with me too!”

“What? No, I’m not!”

“Sorry, Bluey.” She glared down her bill at him, “I like bad boys.”

"Hey, I am just as bad as- wait, what am I doing?!"

"Trying to tear me and Louie apart!"

" Because he asked me too!" Dewey sighed, pinching his bill in frustration. "Look, just leave Louie alone, okay? He's not interested and you're... weird! Not in the fun way! In a very inconsiderate way!"

"You'll never take him away!" Betsy shouted. "Our love spans beyond your comprehension!"

"Are you quoting a movie right now?" But she was already running from the cafeteria, overcome with the drama of it all, followed by several dozen confused eyes.

"What. Did. You. Do." Louie glowered at him at the table. Huey glanced over his shoulder at the few scattered snickers. They had been the first to the cafeteria, eager to avoid a scene.

"Tried to help?" Dewey said weakly. "Sorry, Louie."

Louie groaned and laid his head on the table.

 

**The Uncle**

When Donald arrived home, half dead on his feet, and saw a little girl with jet black hair on the dock, he had to do some mental gymnastics. The triplets were boys, right? All this time, he'd been operating under the assumption they were boys. Had any of them said anything about being a girl? Surely, he would have remembered.

No, whatever the triplets were, they definitely had white hair like Donald and Della. Plus, this kid wasn't wearing the right colors. She belonged to someone else.

So why was she on his dock? "Hello?" He said. "Can I help you?"

"I'm here to see Louie!" The girl said fiercely. She had obviously been crying. "I'm his GIRLFRIEND!"

"Okay... I'm his uncle..." Donald said weakly. He looked up at the house boat. The boys watched from the windows. Louie shook his head furiously.

"You can't keep us apart!" Donald winced. How did voices get that high? "We're both evil to the core! We belong together!"

Donald swallowed his anger. He never liked that joke. Louie could be a little too clever for his own good, but Donald knew evil. He had fought evil. Louie was not evil.

The girl was still yelling. "Okay! Okay!" Donald raised his hands in surrender. "What's your name?"

"BETSY BLOODTHORN DuCLAIRE! And you'll never keep me from my dark prince!"

"Wouldn't dream of it," Donald said. "Come on in, Bloodthrob."

A chorus of "Uncle Donald!", followed by all three boys talking over each other

"It's okay, boys, I understand."

"No, you don't!" Louie skillfully dodged Betsy’s embrace by jumping on top of the refrigerator.

“Sure, I do.” Donald said evenly. “Would you like some cocoa, Bloodthud?”

“Um, it’s Bloodthorn” she glanced around their kitchen/dining room/living room, distinctly unimpressed.

“Sorry, Butthorn,” he saw Louie smirk from the corner of his eye. “Cocoa?”

“Um… Okay.”

“Great.” Donald dug through the cabinets for four mugs. “I’m glad you came tonight, since we’ll be heading up to Grandma Duck’s farm this weekend.”

“We are?” Dewey asked.

Donald nodded. “Louie loves feeding the rabbits. Plus, we’ve gotta repaint the barn.” He launched into a long story about their last visit to the farm, describing pleasant picnics, milking cows and picking daisies for Grandma, all helped by the boys, Louie most of all. “Do you want mini-marshmallows, Boatthrob?”

“No,” she looked a little sick. Well, talking about cotton candy and roller coasters could do that for anyone. “I should probably go home.”

“Okay, you can call your parents on the house phone.” Donald smiled, not smug at all.

“What are you doing?” Louie hissed, nervously glancing at the little girl on the phone.

“Taking care of your problem,” Donald said, “unless you want her to stay?”

“No! No, continue!” Louie stepped back as Betsy returned.

“My mom says she’ll be here soon.” She said.

“Perfect,” Donald said, handing her a mug of cocoa, “Let me tell you about Louie’s first tooth.”

Betsy Bloodthorn DuClaire ran off the house boat the moment her mother arrived. Her mother, a pretty but harried looking hen, apologized profusely. “She just gets these… obsessions! I don’t know what do?”

“Have you considered therapy?”

“Louie,” Donald said, “but maybe a few conversations about respect?”

“Of course,” Mrs. DuClaire nodded. “Thank you!”

She hurried off to join her daughter and Donald gratefully locked the door. Louie hugged him tight, his little shoulders sagging in relief.

“Thanks, Uncle Donald,” he muttered into his shirt.

“You’re a good kid,” Donald ruffled his feathers affectionately. “She just needed to realize that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donald saves the day- curve ball style!
> 
> I am really pleased I didn't have to do the Brutish Bully twice in a row. 
> 
> Please comment! We're almost done and this fic has really helped me keep my spirits up! I appreciate you all!
> 
> Donald is next!


	4. The Uncle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You gotta quit that job, Uncle Donald.”

**The Uncle**

_We need this job. We need this job. We need this job._

Donald sighed deeply. The boys had a field trip coming up, they’d need money for museum tickets, cafeteria lunches and whatever Dewey eventually broke. Then came the birthday, and they deserved something more than the same replacement gifts they got every year. They were ten this year. Louie had been saving for the latest Waddle phone. Donald couldn’t afford to pay for it all but maybe he could put the boy over the top.

To do that, he needed to actually get out of his car and go to work.

But he reeeeeeeaaaaallllly didn’t want to work. Donald glanced at his watch. Two minutes to eight.

 _Early is on time. On time is late. Late is fired._ Mr. Albatross’s maxim echoed in his head as if the pigeon were already yelling at him. Donald scrambled out of the car and rushed into the office.

Fortunately, it was empty, except for the receptionist. Donald breathed a sigh of relief. So, he’d bundled the boys off to school an hour early for nothing? At least he wasn’t fired.

“Hi, Daisy.” He said with a sigh.

“I covered for you,” the pretty receptionist hissed. “You’ve been in the bathroom for twenty minutes!”

“Twenty minutes!” Donald looked at his watch. “But it’s not even 8!”

“You know Albatross,” Daisy said sympathetically. “The work day starts when he arrives, and he arrives when he feels like it. He’s got everyone in the breakroom for morning meeting. Hurry!”

“Thanks, Daisy,” Donald rushed away.

At other offices, breakrooms were a haven where employees could drink a soda, chat with each other and feel like people for five minutes. At Albatross Incorporated, it was the room where the boss broke things. Donald ducked as a pencil sharpener crashed into the door behind him.

“Duck.” The scariest thing about Mr. Albatross was how he could be filled with total rage and still speak in that smooth alto voice. “Where have you been?”

“B-bathroom, sir,” Donald said, remembering Daisy’s lie.

“For twenty minutes?” Mr. Albatross said. “Is something medically wrong?”

Maybe, if Donald’s pulse was any indication. “No, sir. I had to clean it after I- uh… finished?”

Albatross narrowed his eyes. He didn’t believe him, and Donald knew he’d be inspecting the bathroom the moment his meeting ended. “All bathroom breaks are now limited to two and a half minutes.” He snapped to the rest of the workers. “Clearly you can’t handle five yet.”

No one even dared to groan.

“And,” he continued with a nasty grin, “I’d like to remind everyone that all paper, ink, pencils, pens, staples, paper clips and air conditioning are for company use only. Any personal use will be docked from your pay.”

A terrified terrier timidly raised her paw. “Sir, how can we use air conditioning for personal-”

“Air conditioning used during breaks will be docked, Mrs. Schneider. I’ll be turning it off entirely during your lunch period. Do you understand, or should I use smaller words?”

“I understand, sir,” the old lady stared down at the floor.

 _Sheesh, I might as well be working for Scrooge._ Donald thought miserably.

“Now,” Albatross said. “You all know your quotas. Anyone falling short loses his Christmas bonus. Get out of my sight!”

The employees shuffled off to their cubicles. Huey would have pointed out that, since Donald was the only man working for Albatross, the pigeon really should have said “her Christmas bonus.” Huey wasn’t there though. He was in class with his brothers by now, eagerly awaiting their trip to the Science Museum. _We need this job._ Donald remind himself and went to collect his janitorial cart.

“Duck!” Albatross shouted. “Twenty minutes is too long to clean a bathroom. If I see one speck of dirt, I’ll take it out of your tail feathers!”

“Yes, sir.” Donald said.

“And clean up that mess,” Albatross said, jerking his head at the broken pencil sharpened on the floor. “It’s a safety hazard.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mr. Albatross pushed passed him without another word. Donald let out a long sigh. _We need this job. We need this job. We need this job._

**The Nerd**

Huey glanced at the wall clock and slid the eggs across the pan. He’d hoped to have a hot meal waiting when Uncle Donald came home but the eggs would burn if he tried to cook them anymore. With a sigh, he dished them on to a plate, creating a small loop of eggs. The microwave would have to do.

“Uncle Donald’s not back yet?” Dewey asked with a yawn.

Huey shook his head. “You guys can go to bed,” he said. “I’ll stay up.”

“Please,” Dewey yawned again. “Miss staying up two hours passed bed time? No. way.”

Huey smirked. Dewey blinked hard, like he hadn’t just spent the last half hour snoring on the kitchen table, using Louie as a pillow. Their youngest brother was still asleep, his hoodie serving as a blanket.

“Do you think something happened?” Dewey asked. “Remember the time his car got stolen?”

“He would’ve called if something happened.” Huey said with a swallow. _Unless he can’t._ “It’s probably just his boss again.”

“I hate that guy.” Dewey said. “This is like… the fourth time this has happened! There’s gotta be some kind of law about this!”

“There is.” Huey said. He’d looked it up, along with the statistics of anyone getting penalized for breaking it. They weren’t encouraging.

Dewey must have seen it in his look. He crossed his arms and glared out the window. “Uncle Donald should just quit. He’s lost better jobs than this.”

“I don’t disagree-”

“Uncle Donald!” Dewey leapt off the bench and ran to the door. Louie sat up, blinking groggily. Huey put the eggs in the microwave.

“Hey, boys.” Donald said. “I got groceries.”

Dewey took the bag as Donald pulled him in for a hug. Huey and Louie joined him. Donald patted their head feathers gently.

“Ugh,” Louie pulled back. “You smell like old cheese.”

“Yeah,” Donald agreed. “Mr. Albatross had an… accident with some nachos.”

“You gotta quit that job, Uncle Donald.” Dewey said, returning from the fridge. His brothers nodded in agreement.

“It’s fine,” Donald yawned.

The microwave dinged before they could argue. Huey went to collect the eggs while his brother’s ushered Donald into his usual chair. “Here, Uncle Donald. Eat some dinner.” He placed the plate in front of him. Donald ate dutifully.

“Then take a shower.” Louie said.

“Then go to bed and quit your job in the morning!” Dewey finished.

“I’m not-” Donald blinked, suddenly awake. “Why aren’t you boys asleep?! Where’s Mrs. Eggdrop?”

“She said you only paid her through eleven o’clock,” Huey said awkwardly. “And she’s not taking any more I.O.Us.”

“Aw, geez,” Donald ran his hand slowly down his face. “You’ve been alone for over an hour?! I’m gonna kill her!”

“Probably not the best way to keep a baby sitter.” Louie said.

“It’s fine, Uncle Donald!” Dewey waved the issue away. “We can handle a few hours alone.”

“Bed! All of you!” Donald pointed toward the lower deck where they slept.

“Yes, Uncle Donald,” the brothers chorused, not as resentfully as they might’ve. They hugged him before obeying, holding on tight.

“We love you, Uncle Donald.” Huey said.

“Love you too,” Donald said, sniffling a little. “Bed, now.”

**The Evil Triplet**

“He’s gotta quit that job,” Louie said, flopping onto his hammock. “He’s spending half his paycheck on childcare alone!”

“I told him we’d be fine on our own,” Dewey said. “He never trusts us!”

“That’s not the point,” Huey said, brushing his teeth. “He should quit ‘cause that job’s going to kill him.”

“Didn't you do that already?” Louie said as his brother spat through the porthole. Huey ignored him, climbing into the top bunk.

“You really think it’s that bad?” Dewey asked.

“You saw him.” Louie glanced at the closed door. “Uncle Donald’s not exactly the luckiest guy in the world. What if he falls asleep in the car because that jerk’s keeping him ‘till two AM every night.”

“Okay, so what do we do?” Dewey said.

“Nothing tonight.” Huey said. “Uncle Donald said go to sleep. We’ll figure something out in the morning.”

With that he clicked off the light. Louie waited until he heard Dewey’s dulcet snores before he pulled out his phone. Waiting until morning wasn’t exactly his style. If Albatross was going to run Uncle Donald ragged, he could at least pay him a decent wage. Nobody scammed his family but him.

Albatross Incorporated didn’t offer much beyond an official website and a few news stories about poor employee care. The consumer reviews were equally awful. Louie couldn’t quite figure out what Albatross Incorporated did but they weren’t very good at it.

The manager of the Duckburg Branch was Albert Albatross, the third. Some scummy grandson of the scummy founder. No good there. The boss’s kid could write his own ticket. Louie couldn’t even blame him for it. It’s what he’d do.

 _Not to my Uncle though._ He thought, typing in Albatross’s name. He was all over social media, mostly posts about work or working out (#inspiration), all tagged and liked by himself, and only himself. It was almost pitiable.

Worse than that, it was impossible. Louie considered several courses of action. He could go broad, try and get the whole company shut down. Except it looked like no one cared what kind of shady business Albatross was up to. He made half a profile to cat fish Albatross into submission, but he’d only take the eventual frustration and heartbreak out on Uncle Donald. Everything came back to that. Whatever they did, it wouldn’t stop Albatross, just make him angrier.

This wasn’t some punk kid he could intimidate with half remembered movie dialogue, or a crazy substitute. He closed his tabs and opened a video of a kitten falling asleep. Maybe Huey was right. They’d think of something in the morning.

**The Brave One**

They didn’t think of anything in the morning. When Dewey woke up, Huey was already leafing through the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook as if it contained the answers to all life’s questions. Louie woke up last but the bags under his eyes meant he’d stayed up the latest.

Dewey pulled on his undershirt and smoothed his feathers up from his face. “We gotta make Uncle Donald quit that job.”

“He’s not going to.” Huey shoved his book under his hat. How did he store so much up there?

“We’re too broke,” Louie agreed.

“Then we gotta get him fired.” Dewey said.

“Good luck,” Louie pulled out his phone and showed him a picture of an absurdly buff pigeon. “That’s his manager. Albatross will keep Uncle Donald around just to have someone to bully, and Uncle Donald will stick around as long as he has to pay for…” he blew an errant feather out of his face. “us.”

Huey sighed. “C’mon, let’s get breakfast.”

Breakfast was eggs. Breakfast was always eggs. Huey knew how to make eggs and neither of his brothers would try his fish “experiments”. Donald wandered in, half asleep and chugged a cup of coffee without so much as a good morning. Then he jumped a foot in the air and rushed all of them out the door.

Just like every morning.

“Uncle Donald, you gotta quit this job,” Dewey said as Louie drooled on his shoulder. “School doesn’t start for an hour! This is child cruelty!”

“You can stay in the library,” Donald said. “We need this job.”

Huey and Dewey groaned, waking Louie up. As he settled back down on top of him, Dewey stared out the window. Of course, Uncle Donald wouldn’t listen to them. He’d stay in any situation, no matter how soul crushingly awful, if it meant a steady paycheck.

Dewey knew it was all for them, for the three little mouths Uncle Donald had been saddled with when his sister disappeared. _Mom wouldn’t_ \- but Dewey didn’t know what Della would do.

“Okay, boys,” Donald pulled up to the school with a yawn. “Have a good day. I love you.”

“Love you too, Uncle Donald.” Huey said as he scooted out.

Dewey elbowed Louie awake and followed him out the other door. Uncle Donald, desperate to get to work before his boss, started the car before he was out. In a sudden flash of inspiration, Dewey ducked down behind the driver’s seat, closing the door in front of him. Donald turned around in the parking lot and sped off toward Albatross Incorporated.

 _What are you doing?!_ Of course, Huey noticed immediately. Dewey could practically hear his voice crack over the text.

 _Huey’s freaking out._ Louie texted next. _Our birthday isn’t ‘till next month._

With a nervous glance at his uncle, Dewey texted back. _Trust me on this. It’s fine._

Huey: _Do you even HAVE a plan?!_

_Nerrp._

And Dewey turned off his phone.

The drive went fast, with Donald running every red light on the deserted street. Dewey braced himself between the front and back seats, suddenly missing the seat belts. At last, they came to a full stop in the parking lot.

Dewey waited. Uncle Donald didn’t move. He just leaned back and sighed over and over again. “We need this job,” his perpetual mantra, repeated in the silence of the car.

It was all Dewey could do not to argue. Finally, Donald let out his loudest sigh of all, slid out of the driver’s seat, and trudged into the dull gray building. Dewey waited until he was all the way inside before following him.

It was like some terrible reality show had a Design the Most Boring Place in the World challenge and couldn’t pick a winner. Everything was beige or off white, with stock photos of landscapes in frames on the walls. There were no windows and florescent lights flickered on and off in the early morning.

 _Where’s Uncle Donald?_ Dewey wondered. _He can’t already be cleaning?_

“What are you doing in here?” Dewey jumped at the feminine voice behind him. “Dewey?!”

A pretty duck in a pink sweater knew his name. “Hi?” Dewey waved awkwardly, “Do I-?”

“Your uncle talks about you all the time,” she said with a worried smile. “I’m Daisy. What on earth are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“Literally no one should be in school this early!” Dewey said. _Not the time_ , said Huey’s voice in his head. “Look, I’m trying to find-”

“DUCK!” The terrible posters shook on the walls. “This is UNACCEPTABLE!”

“Oh, dear,” Daisy said, taking Dewey’s arm, “You can hide under my desk until the storm blows over- “

But Dewey slipped out of her gentle grasp and dashed toward the yelling. Apparently, Uncle Donald hadn’t told her everything about his nephews.

He followed the shouting into another, equally boring office. The buff little pigeon, Mr. Albatross, had Uncle Donald crowded against the wall, screaming in his face. “You will be staying as late as necessary until I am satisfied this place is spotless, you inefficient waste of a pink slip!”

“Hey!” Dewey shouted, “Let go of my uncle!”

Uncle Donald’s jaw dropped half way to the floor. “Dewey?!”

“Don’t let this jerk push you around, Uncle Donald!” Dewey said, storming into the office. “He’s the worst!”

“Duck!” Albatross barked. “What is this brat doing in my office!?”

“Standing up to a bully!” Dewey said. “Like my uncle taught me!”

“Duck!” Albatross shouted again. “What do I pay you for?!”

Daisy rushed in. “I’m sorry, Mr. Albatross, I’ll-”

But Dewey ducked out of her grasp again. “Just because you’re managing some crappy little store doesn’t mean you can treat people like your punching bags!”

Albatross rounded on Dewey. "That's exactly what it means, brat! I am in charge! I’m bigger and stronger than you or your uncle and I can do whatever I want! Now get out of here before I toss you out on your tailfeathers!”

He didn’t give Dewey a chance to respond but picked him up by his shirt. Uncle Donald was there in a second, separating them with a shove. “Don’t you ever touch my boy!” He snarled.

Albatross sputtered in surprise. “How dare-”

“I quit, Mr. Albatross,” Donald cut him off. He took his nephew by the shoulder. “C’mon, Dewey.” 

“DUCK!” Albatross shouted as they walked into the lobby. “Get back here so I can kill you!”

Behind the desk, Daisy was typing furiously at her station. Dewey hadn’t even seen her leave. “I’m getting the security footage now,” she told them. “If he thinks he can threaten a child and get away with it-” she shook her head in fury. “You’re getting severance pay, Donald.”

“Thanks, Daisy,” Donald smiled weakly. “We’ll need it.”

“We should probably go,” Dewey said as something crashed behind them.

Donald didn’t say another word until they reached the car. He knelt down to examine Dewey. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I-”

“Where are your brothers?” Donald looked around nervously.

“At school,” Dewey said, feeling a little bit guilty. “I didn’t exactly tell them about this. Or give it much thought myself.”

Donald sighed deeply. “You’re grounded.”

“Seriously?!”

“Yes. You can’t ditch school and yell at my boss.” Donald said. “Get in the car.”

“School doesn’t start for an hour!” Dewey shouted. “And that guy was the worst!”

“Get in the car.” Donald said.

Dewey obeyed, bitterly pulling on his seatbelt. This is what he got for sticking up for people. Detention yelled at, and now grounded. _Next time, I’ll just keep my mouth shut._ He stared angrily at the rising sun.

“Welcome to McMallard’s Milkshakes and Malts, how can I help you?” Dewey jerked around at the tinny drive through voice. Uncle Donald smiled back at him.

“Pick one thing,” he said. “You’re still grounded when you’re done. Don’t tell your brothers.”

“Got it.”

In a few minutes, they were headed back to school. Dewey sipped on a mega chocolate milkshake while Donald’s black coffee sat in the cup holder.

“So,” Dewey said awkwardly. “Sorry I yelled at your boss and made you quit your job.

Donald reached over and ruffled his feathers. “It’s okay. Somebody had to yell at him,” Dewey smiled, “but don’t ever do that again.”

“Okay, Uncle Donald,” Dewey lied. He took another sip of milkshake and vowed to do whatever he had to.

“Thanks, Dewey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It ends! Thank you so much for the comments and kudos! Thank you for reading!


End file.
